The Dinner Party

Our relationship has been building for weeks. More and more flirty, the two of us have been pushing the limits of our temptation, under the radar of our small group of friends. During tonight's late night dinner party, the attraction between us may prove too intoxicating to resist, especially when flashes beneath her sundress reveal cotton panties with what appear to be little, red hearts.

Bordeaux has been flowing, and I am deep in the grip of the grape, the place where everything takes on a haze and romanticism as if bathed in candlelight. I sit across from her, falling into her eyes, deep brown pools of espresso, invigorating. They drip shot after shot into my nervous system. I feel electric and shaky, warmed to the core, eager to pour words upon words to chase and tackle the millions of thoughts she has erected within me.

We are locked in mamihlapinatapai, a word birthed in Tierra Del Fuego, meaning the look shared between two people, both hoping the other will initiate that which they both desire. Our friends chatter about in a blurred periphery as we stare deeply, barely caring if we are caught. We struggle to keep the lust just below the surface.

She offers me a small candy wrapped in red plastic, twisted closed at both sides.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

She orders, "Take the candy." Then she slowly mouths the words, "It's been inside me."

My hands tremble as I slowly unwrap my treat. I slide the sweet, semi salty piece into my mouth, and my leg begins to vibrate. It is a text message from her: I wanted to watch you taste me in front of all our friends without them knowing. Our secret.

Later in the evening, as we all play board games, she excuses herself to the bathroom, and when she returns, she sits on the couch across from me. She locks eyes with me and slowly leads my gaze to her waist. With a slight twist, she pulls at the hem of her dress and reveals that the panties I've been stealing peeks at all night are no longer there. In place of them is a gorgeous slit, shining with her anticipation.

Another text: Bathroom. Second drawer on the left.

Minutes later, I find myself in the powder room of our friend's condo. I am as excited as any child on Christmas morning. I was right, they were little, red hearts. I lift the soft knickers from the drawer and can feel her moisture still on the fabric. Blood surges within me and the head of my now pulsating member bursts itself through the top of my jeans.

I unleash it, and it throbs with desire. My right hand attempts to tame the beast she has created, while my left hand lifts her gift to my face. I inhale her fragrance, the scent I have been lusting after for months. I devour what she has left me, and a pool of precum begins to spew out over the tip of my cock, now purple with excitement.

I open my mouth to let out an exhale of pleasure, and as I do, I run my bottom lip over the cotton that has been stretched between her gash all day. Her taste is sweet honeysuckle to my lips. I have been craving to know her taste, and now here I am, with a room full of our friends just feet away, tasting her from her panties. All the while, she knows I'm in here, fist clenched, feverishly stroking my flesh.

I close my eyes and envision her creeping smile, devilishly twisted at the sides as she imagines what I'm doing. I then think of all the other guests reciting banal episodes of their days, ones we have heard a thousand times, and it is enough to send me over the edge. I bring the panties down from my face and caress my cock with them, unloading deep into the soft cotton. My warm cum gushes as I recall how perfect her eyes are when they engage me. I put the now-doused panties back in the drawer, catch my breath, and return to the party.

This time, she receives a text: Go, put them back on.

Minutes later she returns from the bathroom. She is flush and keeps rubbing her fingers across her lips and just under her nose. Before crossing her legs, she lets me glimpse the little hearts, back in the place they started the night. There, in a room full of our friends, friends who know nothing of the desire between us, she sits. My hot juices sticking between her legs, dancing over the most intimate regions of her body. She mouths, "Thank you," and we spend the rest of the night eyes bonded coyly in lust. Our friends don't notice the difference, but we know things have changed and will never be the same.